


A Journalist In Sunnydale

by Marzi



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aliens & Magic, Crossover, F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-01 23:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17253140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzi/pseuds/Marzi
Summary: Sarah Jane Smith comes to Sunnydale in order to investigate the Initiative, and runs into her old friend Rupert Giles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to start archiving some incomplete stuff in an attempt to get myself to one day finish it. So... potentially sorry.

The mess in his flat was reversible, the fact that the time it took to clean it up would be just the right amount for it to be invaded and dirtied again was frustrating.

 

Willow had a power cord strung through his scrolls to her laptop, which was perched on top of books she had finished skimming through. Anya kept using her impeccable radar to find and pick up every object in the room that shouldn't be touched. Xander was using the Encyclopedia of Witchcraft 1631-1845 as a footrest. The rune book he was squinting at was upside down. At least his requests for him to take back Spike had finally stopped.

 

However much he enjoyed seeing them, Giles wanted them out of his home. These days, they were either suffocating him, or forgetting he even existed.

 

They avoided going into the kitchen for fear of being told to cook, so he took refuge there. Snack requests were thrown at him, but as it was his home, he was content to ignore them. He put the kettle on the stove, if they wanted to have something to eat badly enough, they could take it with a decent cup of tea.

 

The doorbell rang and he paused, hopeful that Buffy had decided to stop by after all. Throwing a dishtowel over his shoulder, he moved through the flat for the door. Hopefully it wasn't one of his neighbors. Explaining what a bunch of teenagers were doing in his home was not on his list of things to do that day. Not that he had lists of things to do these days.

 

Giles opened the door without bothering to check through the peephole.

 

“Sarah?” The name slipped out before he fully realized she was truly there.

 

“Good, I did get the right flat.”

 

Giles floundered a moment longer before stepping forward and wrapping the petite brunette in a hug. He then remembered he had three teenagers in his living room and more than few medieval weapons strewn across his couch. He put his hands on her shoulders and took a step back, trying to come up with a plausible reason not to invite her in.

 

“What.. how are you here?”

 

“I got on an airplane.” She smiled, eyebrows raised.

 

“I mean...”

 

It had been years since they'd seen each other. Years since before he'd come to Sunnydale. Sarah Jane Smith showing up on his doorstep was surreal in an almost Hellmouth-y sense. His mind scrambled as he tried to recall any and all demons who could mimic human form.

 

“Well, I just mean...” He needed a non-rude way to question why she had tracked him down.

 

“I was in Silicon Valley, visiting Brandon.” Her eyes darted to his hands, still on her shoulders, and he quickly dropped them. “He told me about the strangest news articles from a town near LA. Thought I would be interested.”

 

Sunnydale did have a way of generating stories. Though the papers reported things far from the truth, they were still quite outrageous. That a few had filtered out into the world at large was hardly surprising, especially considering the recent 'laryngitis' outbreak.

 

“Still a journalist then?”

 

“Yes. I take it you're no longer a curator.”

 

“Ah, no, you're correct on that.” He took off his glasses and began rubbing them on the dishtowel over his shoulder. When he put them back on they were more smudged than before.

 

“Giles?”

 

He turned awkwardly, not wanting to clear the doorway and not quite sure he wanted to reveal Willow's presence.

 

“What's going on?”

 

“This is an old friend of mine.”

 

He saw the lines of the young woman's shoulders tense. Of course, the other old friend of his she had met had been Ethan. Apparently the fact he had greeted this one with a hug rather than a fist was not enough to soothe her.

 

“Sorry, I really should have called ahead.” Sarah didn't look terribly shocked at the sight of Willow. He couldn't decide whether or not that was a good sign.

 

“Who is it?”

 

Anya. Boredom must have driven her towards the source of disruption. At least she was no longer pawing through his things.

 

“Another orgasm friend?”

 

Giles stepped outside and quickly closed the door behind him. He heard a muffled 'hey!' but no one tried to reopen the door. Hopefully that meant the others were holding the ex-demon back, or everyone was now crowded around his door, listening to him. He held out his hand, leading Sarah towards the small patio table.

 

“How long are you planning on staying in town?”

 

Sarah looked back towards his flat a long moment before turning to him. “I'm not sure.”

 

He would have offered her a room, but with Spike finally moved out, he had been looking forward to having the place be his own again. Not to mention the demon research parties that he invariably ended up hosting. In all the years he had known her, Giles had never known Sarah's perception to be open to the demon world. He wasn't about to dispel her reality anytime soon, especially not with Olivia's departure so fresh on his mind.

 

“You've got some interesting friends.” Sarah threw the words out into the silence, fishing for a way to bring their conversation back.

 

“Yes, well, they're uh-- actually more like students. Or family, really...” Why would a bunch of students be in his house on the weekend? She had only gotten a glimpse of two young women as well. Lovely. Hopefully she wouldn't think he had a bunch of young girls trapped in his house.

 

“Students? I had no idea you were interesting in teaching.”

 

“I'm not really, but after working at a high school you can't really help but become one, whether you want to or not.”

 

“A high school?”

 

British Museum curator to American high school employee. Sarah had plenty of reason to look surprised.

 

“Uh, yes, what is it-- what've you been up to?”

 

Time to change the subject, luckily, she went along with him.

 

“Work mostly. I've my own program back home.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes.” She smiled at his surprise.

 

“About what?”

 

“Gardening.”

 

He blinked. “What?”

 

“I'm joking. It's undercover investigative work. Uncovering corporate fraud, and the like.”

 

“Sounds like you.” Dangerous and involved. He could still remember Liz calling him at three in the morning, telling him that Sarah had been shot in Hong Kong. He opened his mouth, ready to ask after Liz, before quickly changing his mind. Asking about her would draw a line to Ethan, and he didn't want Sarah asking about him where they could be overheard.

 

“I can't say teaching sounds like you.”

 

“Yes, well, it's not really a traditional teaching role.”

 

Her eyes went back to his door.

 

“They've moved on from high school.” He needed something in his favor, even if it was something small.

 

“I'm not sure I'd want to meet up with any of my old teachers. You must leave quite the impression.” It wasn't intended to be malicious, but it did make him feel awkward. Sarah picked up on it easily enough. “I've caught you at a bad time.”

 

“Er...”

 

“It's all right to tell me to bugger off.” She rummaged through the purse she had slung over her shoulder. “Look, here's my mobile, maybe we can get a coffee sometime before I go.”

 

He took the business card, stuffing it into the pocket of his slacks. “Definitely.”

 

They smiled at each other for another moment before he stepped in for another hug. “It's good to see you, Sarah.”

 

“It's good to see you, too.”

 

Her arms clung to him with a quick fierceness that he returned. Life had been vastly different for him the last time he had seen her, changes had surely come to her life as well. It would be good to catch up with her, hear about any news from home that he had missed. Not that they had ever really traveled in the same circles, but hearing someone talk about England would be good enough.

 

When he pulled back from the hug, they were both still smiling.

 

“I'll call.”

 

“Can't wait to hear from you.”

 

He waited until she had made it out of the little courtyard before turning back to his door. It was partially open and Willow was smiling sheepishly at him. Giles sighed and went back inside.

 

“Who was that?” Xander, voice dripping with innuendo.

 

“An old friend of mine.”

 

“You said that all ready,” Anya pointed out.

 

“I believe I did, yes.”

 

“A magic-y friend?” Willow's most polite way of asking if he knew her in his youth.

 

“No.”

 

“How do you know her then?” Xander again, brash and more than a little confused.

 

He did have a life outside of the one the Watcher's Council set into motion for him. One that didn't involve demons and magic. Or, he used to.

 

“I met her when I worked at a museum.”

 

Sarah had shown up and taken a keen interest in one of the new exhibits. He had barely had time to tell her how it came into the museum's possession, when Liz and a pack of uniformed men showed up and took it away. Taken without permission from it's home country they said. No foreign ambassador had been after the pieces, and the strange story never made it into the news. Ethan had found the whole thing interesting enough to try and get to know more.

 

They never did find out what happened to the exhibit, but they did make two good friends in the process.

 

“So she's not dangerous?”

 

Not in the way they would think of as dangerous. Then again, Sarah had gotten on frighteningly well with Ethan, but for the longest time, so had he.

 

“No. We don't have to worry about any town wide curse just because she has shown up.”

 

“So you're not sleeping with her?” Anya, ever determined to make things as awkward as possible.

 

“No.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and moved back into the kitchen. “You know, if you lot are tired, I'm sure I can finish cleaning up on my own.”

 

Not that they'd actually been helping pick up the mess.

 

* * *

 

“I've just checked in.”

 

Sarah pushed the motel door closed behind her, fumbling between her keys and mobile before managing to turn on the lights.

 

“Yes, I know it's a bit later than you planned. There was a friend I wanted to see.”

 

She picked up her duffel off the floor, lugging it to the single bed and dropping it on top. The box spring squeaked and sagged under the weight.

 

“No, that wasn't a rat, and no, you don't know them.”

 

She tossed her keys onto the dresser and the mirror perched on top of it wobbled.

 

“If I'm going to be here as long as you think I am, you boys at UNIT had better get me a better place to stay.”

 

She sighed, rolling her head back towards her shoulders.

 

“No, Benton, I won't call the Brig and bother him about my room, though heaven knows he'll throw a fit once he realizes what we're doing. Yes, _I meant_ what I forced you to let me do. It's a fascinating case, why wouldn't I want to look into it?”

 

Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, almost falling back towards the dip in the mattress made by her luggage. She held her mobile in place by bringing her shoulder up to her ear, and started taking off her boots.

 

“Yes, I was serious about having a better place to stay. You couldn't have at least sprung for a bed and breakfast? This place is about to fall apart.”

 

She peeled off her socks, massaging her toes, only half listening to Benton.

 

“No, I'm not going to ask my friend if I can stay with him-- yes, it is a him. I told you already, you don't know him.”

 

She put her mobile back in her hand and dropped back onto the bed.

 

“No, I didn't expect to find him here, and no, I don't think it's suspicious at all. He wouldn't know an alien if it landed in his front yard.”

 

Or his museum, as the case had been. Rupert and Ethan had never missed an opportunity to try and ask her or Liz about the exhibit they had confiscated. It had fallen from curiosity to running joke over the years. It had been years since she'd even thought about the two of them. Had it really been that long? Nearly as long as when she had last seen Elizabeth Shaw.

 

“Goodnight, have fun in New York. Yes, yes, I promise to call you the moment I hear something. I was planning on visiting the college and-- Benton, we can talk strategy later. Let me settle in, the Initiative isn't going anywhere. _Goodnight_. You too.”

 

She hung up, closing her mobile and dropping her hand to her chest.

 

Sunnydale, California. Cheap motel aside, it couldn't be worse than any of the planets the Doctor had ever taken her to. Benton was just too used to worrying since his promotion to General. The whole affair with the Initiative had put him on edge, too. Sarah supposed hearing rumors of a branch of your own organization going rogue was enough to put anyone out of sorts.

 

Not to mention, he wasn't her superior and technically couldn't order her to do anything. He was letting her run an investigation into a matter which could break his career and the organization he stood for. It was part of how she convinced him to let her go. She wasn't UNIT, despite her past ties to the organization, she wasn't compromised or a leak. He would never have known for sure with any of the officers that he could have assigned to this task. She could be trusted. Even if he hadn't let her take on the investigation, she would have been in town anyway. Brandon had told her about Sunnydale before she learned of the Initiative.

 

If Benton had truly wanted her as far away from this as possible, he wouldn't have let slip that there was something going on in the town in the first place. Now he just needed to stop hovering long enough to let her do her job.

 

There was a large crack and a suspicious stain on the ceiling. Maybe Rupert could give her suggestions of a better place to stay.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't need to feel guilty for having coffee. Giles tried to give himself a little leeway on the matter. He was allowed to have a life after all, he didn't need to spend all of his time doing grunt work for Buffy. Especially when she was suddenly so opposed to tracking down information about the commandos. Perhaps the earthquake had shaken her up more than he realized. Next time he saw her he would apologize for being so candid, but at the moment, he would just enjoy his coffee.

 

Giles checked his watch. If only Sarah would show up, he could have something to focus on rather than his unfounded guilt. He took a sip from his mug. She had been late enough that he felt ordering without her wasn't completely unwarranted.

 

“Sorry.”

 

The woman in question dropped herself into the chair opposite him, tucking her purse under the table by her feet.

 

“Got caught up on the phone, and then I think I took the wrong bus.”

 

“It's all right.” He would have stood for a hug, but from the way she oozing into the chair, he doubted she would be standing anytime soon.

 

“Is that coffee?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Her face scrunched a moment with indecision. “Smells wonderful, but I might have to go with an espresso.”

 

“You do look rather tired.”

 

“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “I couldn't get to sleep last night. Things kept breaking in my motel room.”

 

“The earthquake?”

 

She nodded. “Must have been. Aftershocks or something, first the mirror on the table, then drawers in the dresser, then the faucet in the bathroom.”

 

“Surely you just found a different place to stay?”

 

“I would've, but with all the damage in my room I just about ended up getting the night free. I also haven't worked out a rental for a car yet.”

 

“I've never known you to be so keen on penny pinching.” She was far from frivolous, but he knew she wasn't poor. Staying somewhere that wasn't crumbling around her ears was a basic necessity that she could afford.

 

“I'm attempting to work with a very limited budget.” Sarah snagged the next waitress that walked by, ordering a triple espresso. With the promise of a strong dose of caffeine on the way, she managed to sit a little straighter. “So, how was your evening?”

 

“Not as eventful as yours, I'm afraid.”

 

“Too bad. One can never have enough adventure.”

 

Giles disagreed. He took a sip from his coffee to cover it up.

 

“Are you hungry?”

 

“Did you miss breakfast too?”

 

“The room had a little stove, but with the way things were going, I felt it was best not to risk it. You actually called before I could convince myself of that, so the motel is probably still standing thanks to you.”

 

Sarah was someone who had to be kept away from the kitchen even when things were working properly. He had actually thought Ethan put a simple hex on her once, as Liz followed her around with a fire extinguisher while she tried to fry some eggs. The woman was just genuinely ill fated when it came to cooking.

 

“I'll be sure to notify them that I am due their gratitude. Though from the sound of things, it seems they could have used the insurance money.”

 

She chuckled. “It's good to talk to you again.”

 

Before he could reply, the waitress returned with her order. As she took her first caffeine hit, he tried a different approach to the conversation. A question that had been bothering him since she had shown up the day before.

 

“It's good to talk to you too, but how was it that you found me, exactly?”

 

The smile faded form her eyes. “An article, from a few years ago. Woman found dead in....”

 

High school librarian's apartment. Had she been feigning surprise when he told of his switch to teaching, or been hoping that the article was lying? He looked down at his drink, struggling to keep Jenny Calender from consuming his thoughts.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

The words were genuine, but not ones he cared to hear.

 

“Thank you. No matter how much time passes, I don't....”

 

“It's all right.” She dumped a packet of sugar into her espresso, listlessly stirring it in with her spoon. It looked like something done to occupy her hands rather improve the taste of the drink. “I can understand not wanting to talk about something. It's one of the reasons I didn't want to ask about Ethan. If that's something you'd rather not--”

 

“He left a note in the flat and I haven't seen him since.” A lie, but as close to the truth he could manage with her. The anger he felt at that day came back to him easily, and helped ground him, kept the ghost of Angelus away. He had burned that damned note just about the minute after he had read it. A tacky attempt at a parting jab, it had simply said he was going out for some cigarettes and would be back soon. Giles had quit smoking the next day.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

He didn't want to keep hearing that from her. “No need to be, I knew things could only end badly between he and I. It was stupid for both of us to try as long as we did. How about you and Liz?”

 

It was her turn to look away. “We kept disagreeing until that's all we did. I hear about her from mutual friends, but it's been years since I've actually seen her. Hong Kong took more out of her than I realized.”

 

“And you were the one who got shot.” It was macabre, but it worked to give their conversation some levity.

 

“I was.” She looked as if she was close to laughing. “I guess that's why she didn't leave immediately.” A small, broken smile stayed on her face as she took a drink.

 

What a sad pair they were.

 

“Do you know how long you'll be in town?” Hopefully it was a safer route of conversation.

 

“Still nothing definite, but longer than I thought. I've gotten a flat.”

 

Giles mouth nearly fell open. So much for the crumbling motel room. “Just a bit longer?”

 

There was a genuine smile back in her eyes, but it didn't show on her lips. “Yes. I'm doing some research.”

 

“For your show?”

 

“No. The last expose I did will have to content them for now.”

 

“Must be important research if you're risking your job.” The rush of his attempted days in a band came back to him, and the fierce power of producers.

 

“It's important for my friends.” She turned the spoon in her cup. “Aside from not-curating and almost teaching, what do you do?”

 

“Nothing.” It was jarring but strangely refreshing to say the truth out loud. “I am currently unemployed.”

 

“I never thought of you as one to stay idle.”

 

“Not quite idle.” The occasional demon hunt or night of research kept him active. The vampire he used to have in his bathroom had kept him occupied, now he was mainly tracking soldiers through the woods. “Just... not work.”

 

“How is that?”

 

She looked genuinely curious, and he couldn't blame her. It was a strange thing, almost like saying retirement, but he wasn't ready for that. “Some days are better than others.”

 

“Lavinia has gotten that way.”

 

“How is your aunt?” As she had brought her up first, it seemed a safe topic to pursue.

 

“Getting old, but holding on.”

 

“Do you see her often?”

 

“Not as often as she would like. She's always worried about me.”

 

As her recent exploit had her all but moving to Sunnydale, Giles couldn't blame her aunt. If he had a way to get Sarah away from the dangers of this town, he would. It didn't matter what she had survived in the past, he believed in not tempting fate. What the hell could she possibly be researching here, anyway? The Hellmouth crept into his thoughts, but he pushed it aside. Sarah couldn't know about that.

 

“Having someone to worry about you can be a good thing.”

 

“Yes, but it's also never failed to make me feel a little guilty.”

 

He knew that feeling. “And Brandon? You mentioned he was in Silicon Valley.”

 

“Happy as a clam, that one. Surrounded with all the toys he could ever want, and the budget to get to play with them.”

 

“Let you at some of it?” Sarah had an innate fondness for technology that he would never understand.

 

“Not really allowed.”

 

“Since when has that stopped you?”

 

She managed a laugh. “And you? Still sending death glares to any piece of technology that makes it your way?”

 

“I may not know how to operate them, but I have come to find them useful.” Willow had a way of making them useful. Mostly when she was doing something illegal on them.

 

“A step in the right direction.”

 

He forced an exaggerated _harrumph_ for her, making them both smile. Her mobile rang and she excused herself to the sidewalk, speaking quietly to whoever was on the other end.

 

Sarah in Sunnydale. He supposed he would get used to the sight. They could meet for coffee every once in a while. He could show her the good places to get import tea. He could have a normal friend in this town. The children's curiosity would fade, as it always did. If she hadn't shown up at his place with them there he doubted they would ever know she existed. They tended not to care about his adult acquaintances. Having a friend in town who had no magical or demonic agenda was good.

 

Hopefully she would avoid getting caught up in Sunnydale's predilection for apocalypses.

 

“Well, it looks like I finally have a car.”

 

“Good news.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Need a lift to get to your car?”

 

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rupert had been kind enough to take her back to her hotel room to collect all of her things before driving her to the rental. His curiosity and her invitation had him visiting her new place with her. Benton had promised her something better than the place she stayed in last night, and she hadn't been disappointed. Though utterly devoid of furniture, the space was nice. Rupert had walked the place with her, matching her appreciative noises. It had one bedroom and a decent full sized bath. He had given her tub the strangest look, almost wistful.

 

Once at the door he had her promise to come over for dinner that night before leaving. Sarah waited five minutes before heading out herself. She had errands to run for UNIT, and considering her utterly furniture devoid flat, some shopping to do for herself.

 

The Sunnydale UC campus was first on her list of places to visit. One Professor Maggie Walsh, former UNIT scientist for the New York branch, taught there. Seeing as UNIT hadn't been the ones to retire her, it was an odd place for her to end up. What was it with Sunnydale and oddities? She would have to ask Rupert about it over dinner. Surely he had noticed something in all the time he had lived here. People he cared about being murdered aside. Than again, maybe she should avoid the topic of oddities.

 

She got directions from a badly scaled campus map, which led her to an administrative building, where a student behind a counter drew her a map to the psychology department. She had walked by the building she needed to head to three times on her way to find it. Sunnydale seemed to have a problem with maps, and decent identifying markers. Sarah had been a little taken back by the sheer number of graveyards the town possessed. If directions didn't include them, you were probably heading out of town.

 

She found Walsh's office locked, telling her the professor was likely in class, as a peek through the window showed her the lights were off. After a quick scan down the hall, she brought out her lock-picks. No time like an empty office for some good snooping. She closed the door behind her then turned on the light. Relatively well organized, if cramped with materials. She poked through a pile of papers on the desk, all of which appeared to be students'. She seemed to actually be teaching. Could she have simply retired from UNIT for a quiet life?

 

Not if that retirement brought her to the town where the Initiative had set up shop. Coincidences did not exist.

 

She moved around behind the desk, looking for locked drawers and jimmying them open. Books. Papers. Private student files. She replaced the drawers contents as best she could, then moved on to the filing cabinet. The top two opened freely, and were full of school things. The bottom three were locked. Hopefully they would have more things than school papers and personal effects.

 

Floppy disc and CD-ROM. All neatly labeled, and stacked sequentially. Utterly useless to her as she did not know what they were referencing. There was a computer in the office, but she did not want to try and use it until she had been through all the non-electronic things in the room. If someone were to walk in, she could unplug or shutdown a computer she was working on. She couldn't instantly put files back in a drawer.

 

The next drawer revealed fat folders with wonderfully well lit pictures. Sarah smiled, unable to help it. Exactly what she needed. She pulled a notepad from her bag, the shorthand she wrote on its lines nearly spilling from their proper place. She had to be quick, she had no idea how much time she had.

 

Benton was going to be pissed. He would finally have something to work with, but he was going to be pissed.

 

“Professor Walsh?”

 

Sarah snapped her notebook closed and dropped it into her bag, freeing up her hands as quickly as she could in order to toss the folders back into their proper drawer. She was pushing the cabinet closed with the toe of her boot when the door to the office opened.

 

A young blonde man poked his head in, eyes immediately fixing on her. His eyes darkened and he stepped into the room, back going straight. The stride of many a harried UNIT officers marching down the hallway after a threat, or the Doctor.

 

Her jaw twitched with the effort to hold her harmless and befuddled expression.

 

“Is this Professor Jade's office?” It was best to ask questions before anyone who caught you could.

 

“No ma'am, this is Professor Walsh's office.”

 

“This is the fine arts building?” She stepped towards him, pulling out the map the girl at the office had drawn for her. “I was told this is where the painting classes were--”

 

There were no dog tags tucked into his shirt as far as she could tell. Surely it wasn't simply the way of an American student to respond to strangers in such a way?

 

“--I've just retired you see and--”

 

“No, uh, ma'am this--”

 

“--I thought wouldn't it be nice? Painting? It's never too late to improve yourself.”

 

“No, I reckon it isn't, but this isn't the fine arts building.”

 

“Really?”

 

The military stance faded out of his shoulders and the young man helped draw a new route on her wrinkled map to the fine arts building. Charming young men used to be such a chore. Now she was barely distracted from her errands.

 

She would head to the shops before dinner. Order a bed, pick up a kettle. The rest could wait until tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh my god, Rupert, what happened?”

 

“Er...” Demons. Another apocalypse. Things she was blissfully ignorant of.

 

Sarah didn't try and step into his home, but he couldn't think of an appropriate response, so he just let her in. The mess was explainable. Sarah's eyes stayed on the haphazard bandages he had on his face as she walked through his door.

 

“Came home and uh, ran into someone trying to rob me.”

 

She finally looked away from him to the mess of his living room. At least the destruction was moderately contained. “They seemed more interested in destroying the place... have you been to the hospital?”

 

“The scratches are superficial, I'll be all right.”

 

“Do you want me to take a look at them? Looks like whoever bandaged you up did a poor job. It wasn't EMTs, was it?”

 

“Uh, no.” After everyone else had left to confront the demons, he had done it himself.

 

She grimaced, but didn't comment. Not talking to the police after being roughed up always sounded more believable coming out of Ethan's mouth. Not that the two of them ever ran into as much trouble as this town tended to throw at him. He shuffled towards the couch, and she followed after, spotting the first aid kit, still laid out on his counter.

 

When he sat, he couldn't contain his sigh.

 

“They didn't take anything too valuable I hope.” She set the kit on the coffee table and rummaged through it.

 

“No, just knickknacks I've picked up over the years.” If value was what they were measuring things on, the amulet really hadn't been that expensive. If usefulness was to be measured, the potential end of the world was a bit of a problem.

 

“Must have interrupted them early on.”

 

“Yes.”

 

She put antiseptic on a cotton ball and reached for his face, just as someone knocked on the door.

 

 


End file.
